[Escaping a rising tide is not exactly what they'd planned on doing with their time, but it is at least an instinct they can well act upon: fleeing an inexorable force of nature before it swallows them whole. They're more talented at streaking along flat surfaces than they are at scaling vertical ones, but they're keeping reasonably ahead of the spray and seafoam - right up until they see a flash of red and, most alarmingly, blue skin.]
[The Drifter nearly loses their handholds and slips into the flotsam on the spot.]
[Their new goal becomes pursuing this other blue-skinned creature. They can't be - they can't be another one, can they? There can't be another one here, can there?]
b. you know i had to do it em
[The Drifter nearly loses their handholds and slips into the flotsam on the spot.]
[Their new goal becomes pursuing this other blue-skinned creature. They can't be - they can't be another one, can they? There can't be another one here, can there?]
[There's no other explanation.]